


A Tale Of Earth And Air

by LibKat



Series: Jaime/Brienne Week 2019 [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Tam Lin (Traditional Ballad)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, F/M, Fusion with Folk Ballad Tam Lin, Jaime/Cersei relationship is not incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 07:47:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20888618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibKat/pseuds/LibKat
Summary: Governess Brienne Tarth is stunned to see her childhood friend Jaime Lannister in town for the Fall Season.  Jaime had long been thought dead.  Where had he been and who were these beautiful, cruel companions that accompanied him?





	A Tale Of Earth And Air

**Author's Note:**

> I was debating whether to participate in JB Week this year or to concentrate on the story I’ve been writing for Halloween. Then, I came up with what I thought was a brilliant idea for the Autumn prompt: a retelling of the story of Tam Lin, with Cersei as the evil fairy queen, Jaime as the man enthralled by her, and Brienne as the girl from his past who tries to gain his freedom. And wouldn’t be cool to do it as a Regency, my favorite genre for romance fiction.
> 
> Then I woke up to why I thought it was such a good idea. One of the best traditional Regency writers, the late, great Edith Layton, had already done the same idea as a short story that was published as part of her Seasons of Love anthology.
> 
> (If you like traditional Regencies and have not read Edith Layton, all her books for the old Signet Regency line are now available for the Kindle. Go buy them and read them. I’ll wait right here.
> 
> ISN’T SHE AMAZING!!!!!!)
> 
> Anyway, with the encouragement of my friends in Gary’s Writing Group, I decided to go ahead and write my JB twist on the story anyway. 
> 
> This story comes from my fondest memories of all the hours of enjoyment Ms. Layton’s stories have brought me.
> 
> ***This turned out to be a longer story than I anticipated. I’m publishing the first chapter for Day 4 of JB Week. I’ll get the rest of the chapters in shape once I’ve finished my fics for days 5-7.
> 
> Disclaimer: A Song of Ice and Fire, Game of Thrones and these characters belong to a whole bunch of people who are not me. I will return them undamaged when I am finished playing with them.

JB Week 2019

Day 4 – Autumn

A Tale Of Earth And Air

Chapter One

Out Of The Shadows

The shadows were lengthening as the afternoon drew to a close. Miss Brienne Tarth decided it was time to gather her charges and take them home from the park. She hoped the time spent racing about through piles of fallen leaves had worn out the boys and young Lady Arya. They were used to far more exercise at their home in the North than the confines of town could offer.

Lady Sansa had accompanied them today, but she had sat primly on the bench next to Brienne and watched her two younger brothers and younger sister run about and play.

Lady Sansa was acting rather too perfect a young lady. She would not have joined in the rambunctious games back at Winterfell, but she had paid more attention to her younger sibs, the boys particularly, acting as almost a second mother during the days of Lady Stark’s grieving.

Sansa’s conversation was now made up of the anticipated joys of her come out during the Fall Little Season. Brienne had spent the time in the park listening to elaborate descriptions of every new dress, bonnet, and ribbon in the young miss’s wardrobe, as though she had not been right there at Sansa’s side, along with the dowager Lady Stark, during each shopping trip.

It gave Brienne some pause to find Lady Sansa so self-involved. Perhaps the girl was too immature for the demands of a debut after all. At Winterfell, Brienne had seen the logic of Lady Stark’s argument that Sansa was close enough to eighteen as made no never mind and that the Fall Season was an easier way for a young girl to dip her toe into the waters of society. Lady Stark had done the same when she was Catelyn Tully and had caught the lord of Winterfell in those few weeks. 

Brienne’s belief was that since Lady Stark insisted on going to town for the autumn, it would be cruel to relegate Sansa, so close to being of age, to the schoolroom when her few friends in Kings Landing were already out in society and enjoying all the amusements of the Ton.

On this gloomy afternoon in the park, Sansa gleamed like a freshly minted copper, her Tully red hair complemented by her pelisse and bonnet in a shade midway between blue and green.

Brienne had not expected Sansa’s company today, so she had worn one of her oldest frocks. Sometimes when it was only she, Lady Arya, and the boys, Brienne was known to join in with a game of hide and seek or cricket. Arya needed a challenge even if her brothers did not, and Brienne was a tremendous bowler.

That Sansa’s presence had not managed to draw any of the Ton to their remote corner of the park was a cause for disappointment on the young miss’s part and of gratitude in her governess. Brienne’s mud-brown dress was not only unflattering, it was at least two inches too short after repeated washings. Far more of her boots were showing than was considered proper for a gentlewoman.

Lords Brandon and Rickon were easily herded together to meet the carriage for the trip back to Stark House. But Arya was proving more difficult. She had gone haring off down the bridle path with one of Rickon’s toy soldiers.

The riders seemed to come out of a pocket of shadow as dark as night. They were absent one moment and there the next. Brienne didn’t see how it was possible that Arya had failed to notice them, horse-mad as she was, but she had darted into their path.

Brienne put on a burst of speed, her overlong lower limbs good for something. She snatched Arya off the bridle path and onto the grassy verge moments before the party rode her down.

“Keep that brat out of the way, woman!” one of the horsemen at the front of the group cried out.

Brienne leapt to her feet as they passed by, horsemen after horsemen, unable to tell how many were in the party. They kept appearing out of the shadows. The sounds of thundering hooves filled her ears, yet the horsemen moved at a lazy trot. <strike>It gave her plenty of time to observe the company.</strike>

Each horse was more beautiful than the others. Each rider, as well. They were outfitted in a bevy of the colors of the autumn: golds, greens, russets set against horses of equally rich colors: bays, browns, roans. 

Set like a jewel in their center was a single woman. She lit the gathering darkness like a blazing sunset. Her hair was golden as a new dragon-piece, her skin like smooth, fresh cream. Her figure was shown to perfection in a tight, crimson riding habit that skirted the edge of scandalous to Brienne’s eyes. A long train draped artfully over her snowy white, spirited stallion. She controlled the horse with hands, whip, and golden spurs that flashed in the red rays of the dying sun.

Her face turned to look at Brienne and Arya standing agog on the grass. For an odd moment, Brienne could not perceive the lady’s face. It seemed to blur and twist. When her sight cleared, Brienne thought that her mind had been incapable of absorbing so much beauty all at once. Her eyes were the color of the finest emeralds, her lips red and ripe for a gentlemen’s attention, her high cheekbones glowed like fall’s last flowers before the frost.

The lady’s gaze met Brienne’s, cold and hard. Her lips twisted in disgust at having to view something as unsightly as Brienne Tarth.

Brienne turned her head away. Seeking to avoid encountering the lady’s gaze a second time, Brienne was then transfixed by her partner.

Long, muscular legs in fawn breeches flexed as he controlled an enormous, coal-black mount. Wide shoulders were encased in a bottle green riding coat. Brienne followed the line of those shoulders to the wavy golden hair that just brushed his coat collar, hair that was much longer than the current fashion. His face turned to observe what sight so absorbed his lady companion.

Brienne gasped. The face was both handsome and beautiful. The emerald of his eyes was warm, where his lady’s was cold as an autumn breeze off the Blackwater. His jawline was sharp enough to cut glass. His nose had been broken in the past. That imperfection saved him from being merely a pretty man and hinted at a depth of character.

It was a face familiar to Brienne, but one she had not seen in many years. And it had not aged a day.

The party rode on past, various members turning to look at them. When Sansa and the boys came to stand with Brienne and Arya on the verge, one of the younger members of the party licked his lips and doffed his hat to them. Sansa let out a tiny sigh.

“Do you know them, Miss Tarth?” Bran inquired. The quieter of the two Stark boys saw more than a lad of his years ought.

“One of them looked like someone I knew long ago. But it could not have been. He disappeared and was never heard from again.”

As Brienne said these words, the rider of the ebony gelding turned his head and looked back at her. For a moment, a faint beam of sunlight found him, and she could see his lips shape a single word.

Brienne.

***

It was near full dark when Brienne and her charges arrived back at Stark House. Nanny, who looked after the children when Brienne and Lady Stark were not available, tutted over the lateness of the hour and the state of the boy’s and Arya’s clothes.

“I swear, Miss Tarth, these children will run right through all the cloth in Kings Landing afore we get back North, and they can wear patched breeches and darned dresses again. Miss Arya, how did you manage to get grass stains on your sleeves? I declare you are as wild as a direwolf and no mistaking.”

“That is not entirely her fault, Nanny. She got in the way of a riding party. I had to pull her to the ground to get her out of danger. I may have pulled a bit too enthusiastically.”

“I’m sure she got herself into such trouble by running off,” Nanny sighed and gripped Arya’s chin in her hand. “You’ll be the death of me one day, young miss. Now off you go. You haven’t much time to clean up before supper.”

“Is tea laid out for the boys in the nursery?” Brienne asked.

“Aye, it is. But her ladyship wants you to join her and the girls in the dining room this evening, Miss. Something about planning for the entertainments this week. You’d best hurry and change into one of those pretty new gowns of yours. If her ladyship learns that you went out in that old thing and were seen by some of the highborn, she won’t be happy with you.”

Brienne sighed deeply. She had hoped for a final quiet evening before the social season began. Tomorrow night she would have to act as a chaperone at Lady Tyrell’s ball to open the Season. With Sansa being a particular friend of Lady Tyrell’s granddaughter, the Stark’s party would be expected to arrive early and stay late. Brienne’s head began to ache in anticipation of the overheated, overcrowded rooms in Rose Mansion.

But Brienne knew her duty. She knew how fortunate she was to have as kind an employer as Lady Stark and happy, intelligent children as her charges. Not all governesses were so lucky. If Lady Stark occasionally required things that were a challenge to the governess’s shyness, it was in the spirit of expanding Brienne’s horizons.

Brienne knew that she and Lady Stark had become friendlier than the usual mistress and governess, perhaps closer than much of society would feel was proper between a lady and a servant. Brienne had arrived at Winterfell in the wake of Lord Stark’s untimely death two years before. She was there for the scandal when Lady Stark’s eldest son made a runaway marriage with a young foreign lady who was not the girl who wore his betrothal ring. Lady Stark had required much support in those trying times, and Brienne had been a rock for her. 

When Lady Stark decided a change of scenery was in order, she insisted that Brienne come to town with the members of the family who weren’t in active disgrace with society. Lord Robb and his bride were quite happy to see the back of his disapproving mama and his rambunctious sibs.

A pitcher of perfectly warmed water was waiting for Brienne on the washstand in her chamber. Abundant hot water was one of the luxuries Lady Stark provided to all her staff. The temperatures at Winterfell made it necessary for the daily ablutions of all the household. Chilled from the time in the park, and the strange encounter there, Brienne was grateful those habits carried over into the town.

Once she had scrubbed her hands and face, she contemplated her wardrobe. There were far more choices than Brienne had ever had before. Lady Stark had insisted on refreshing Brienne’s wardrobe for this visit to town, though Brienne had protested that as a simple governess, who might also act as a chaperone, she had no need for fine new clothes.

“Nonsense, my dear Brienne!” Lady Stark had declared. “When you accompany Sansa to Ton events, you will be representing Winterfell, the North, and my family. You must be dressed appropriately.”

Lady Stark had not had any idea of how difficult it was to dress Brienne appropriately. 

The fashionable modiste who smiled in delight at the idea of dressing Sansa and Lady Stark had taken a single look at Brienne’s large, mannish form and unfortunate face. She had declared that Lady Stark’s custom was not worth having her creations shown on such a one as Brienne.

It had been Margaery Tyrell who had suggested the little know Mme. Donyse as the one to fill the wardrobes of the ladies of the Stark household with beautiful and imaginative creations.

That advice had proven quite good.

Brienne had morning dresses, afternoon dresses, promenade costumes, a riding habit, and _three_ evening gowns, all in an array of colors that was not quite in line with what society considered proper for a governess of three and twenty years and firmly on the shelf. Though most of the fabrics were subdued in their hue, and could not be mistaken for the pastels appropriate for a debutante, each had some subtle touch of youth, of springtime about them.

For tonight’s informal dinner en famille, Brienne chose an afternoon dress in a shade known as Ashes of Roses. It was a sarsnet that appeared light grey at first glance but glowed with touches of pink and lavender when seen in the light. The high-necked bodice had an embellishment of a bluish-grey velvet that evoked the idea of a gentlemen’s vest. Rather than making Brienne seem more masculine, the tapered shape detracted somewhat from her too broad shoulders and her flat bosoms.

Mme. Donyse had known what she was about. The dress sat comfortably on Brienne’s broad frame. There was no tightness around the arms. The color was so subtle that she knew she could fade into the background if that were her preference. As she tidied her hair, Brienne looked longer at herself in the mirror than was her wont. She had hopes that she would not disgrace the Stark family in society after all.

It was in the very back of Brienne’s mind that Lady Stark might be hoping that Brienne might find a beau during their time in town. Although the idea of marriage was not distasteful to Brienne, she had proven distasteful to every potential suitor her father had managed to find for her.

Lady Stark would see the truth if she had matchmaking plans for Brienne. Her modest inheritance was no counterbalance to her height, her mismatched features, and her awkward form. Though she looked better in Mme. Donyse’s creation, she was still what she was. Brienne hoped that Lady Stark’s eyes were opened quickly before the matter could humiliate either of them.

***

A dinner with Arya Stark at table would always be a lively affair. Brienne flattered herself that her influence had moderated Arya’s behavior down from its previous level of boisterous verging on rowdy. The first of the Stark’s governesses had stifled Arya’s every inclination to physical activities, and the girl’s frustrations had manifested in acting the defiant hoyden. Brienne had convinced Lady Stark that allowing Arya some freedom had been less a matter of giving her enough rope to hang herself than allowing a spirited filly a loose rein. Gaining some voice in her endeavors had proved a calming influence on the girl, and she was much less inclined towards disruption as a result.

Tonight both Arya and Sansa were unable to stop speaking of the riding party at the park.

“She was beautiful, Mama. I’ve never seen someone so striking. Against her white horse, she looked like a vivid, perfect flame!” Sansa declared.

“She looked full of herself and most unpleasant,” Arya countered. “But the horses, Mother, the horses! I’ve not seen horseflesh so fine. Major Clegane’s stable hasn’t their equal, and his horses are the best in the North. Even the horse that arrogant boy rode, the one who tipped his hat at Sansa as if he knew the color of her petticoat, his horse was a marvelous …”

“Arya!” Sansa shouted, like one of their arguments of old. “He did not! He was polite, a gentleman. The rest of them went by like we weren’t there, including the one who knew Brienne.”

“Girls!” Lady Stark was practiced at defusing arguments between her two daughters. Her tone was sharp enough to pull their attention away from one another but not so much as to cause the casting of blame between them. “Which young man was this? And who was the man you knew, Brienne? We do not want Sansa’s reputation to be damaged by attracting the wrong kind of notice.”

Brienne swallowed her mouthful of dinner. Though Lady Stark was everything that was gracious to her children’s governess, the well-being of her children was paramount with her. It would not do to allow her to think that Brienne was lax in overseeing the girls.

“I did not recognize the young man who attempted to catch Sansa’s attention, my lady. He did no more than tip his hat as he rode by. We were standing at the edge of the footpath, and it was clear that Sansa was a gentlewoman accompanied by a chaperone. I do not think his actions could have been construed as rude or disrespectful.”

That was not true if she were honest with herself. There had been something about the young man Brienne had not liked.

“And the other man?” Lady Stark prompted.

“I did not believe my eyes until he turned back to us and said my name. Then I knew. It was Jaime Lannister, my lady.”

All the Stark ladies gasped at the name. 

“Jaime Lannister? But he’s dead, isn’t he?” Arya exclaimed.

“There was never any evidence of his death,” Brienne answered, “though his uncle has lately brought an action before the House of Lords to declare him so. It has been close to seven years since anything of him has been heard. I must be mistaken. If rightful Lord of Casterly Rock had returned to Kings Landing, it would have been in the newspapers and on every tongue.”

“Forgive me, Brienne, but I must ask. How would you know Jaime Lannister if you saw him?” Lady Stark’s voice overrode the cries and questions of her daughters. “You could not have been more than fifteen when he disappeared, and he came from the other side of the kingdoms from Tarth.”

“I had just turned sixteen, ma’am, and I had known Lord Jaime for years when I was a girl. He and my brother were at school together. They were the very best of friends.”

“Hmph! Jaime Lannister comes back from the dead in time to claim his title and inheritance. What else could be expected of an oathbreaker?”

Brienne was stunned by the vehemence of Lady Stark’s words. 

“An oathbreaker, Mama! Whatever can you mean?” Sansa asked.

“Seven years ago, Jaime Lannister had sworn to go and fight our enemies in Essos. Instead, he changed his mind and went off adventuring to who knows where. He ran from his disgrace and cowardice. I never thought much of Lord Tywin Lannister, cold, proud man that he was, but I think he was relieved that his son never showed his face in society again.”

“Forgive me, my lady,” Brienne’s voice shook with the effort to remain calm, “but you are incorrect. Jaime did intend to go and fight in Essos. He and my brother purchased their commissions at the same time. When the day came for them to join their regiment, Jaime discovered that his father had bought him right back out of the army again. The Colonel of the Guards would not gainsay the desires of Lord Lannister of Casterly Rock, no matter how much Jaime and Galladon protested. It was not in disgrace but in disgust for his father’s actions that Jaime left Westeros.”

Lady Stark blinked several times at Brienne. “And you are quite sure of this? My husband heard a far different account of the matter.”

“I heard this from my brother, who was himself a witness to the events. Jaime and Galladon had planned to join the army together since they were boys. Jaime’s father had never approved of the plan as he did not want his heir in danger. Jaime had to use a bequest from his aunt to purchase the commission for himself, and it was not enough to match the bribe offered to the Colonel by Tywin Lannister. I suspect it was Lord Tywin himself who started those vile rumors to defend his own reputation at the expense of his son’s. He could not abide Jaime’s defiance. He was indeed a cold, proud man and colder as a father if you can credit that.” Brienne had to put her cutlery down, the tremors in her hands causing it to clatter against her plate.

Lady Stark appeared amazed that her unassuming governess had a connection to another of the great houses of Westeros. “You speak as though you knew Lord Jaime quite well, Brienne, using his given name so casually.”

Brienne heard the chastisement in Lady Stark’s words. “Lord Jaime was as another member of my family; he and Galladon were close as brothers. Lord Tywin spent very little time with his son, ignoring him though they were in the same house. From the time he went to boarding school until he finished at university, Jai … Lord Jaime spent his school holidays with us on Tarth rather than at Casterly Rock or in Kings Landing. But after he and Galladon were separated by circumstance, we heard nothing more from Lord Jaime, not even when Galladon,” Brienne swallowed against the grief that always closed her throat when she thought of her brother’s death alone in a foreign land. “Not even when Galladon died, not even when my papa died, though he had been a better father to Jaime than his own ever dreamed of being. That was why I came to believe that Jaime Lannister was truly gone until I saw him today.”

Sansa, who was closest to Brienne at the dining table, put a gloved hand over the clenched fist that rested next to Brienne’s discarded fork.

Lady Stark’s eyes softened. Grief, Brienne’s for her father and brother and Lady Stark’s for her husband, was what had first brought them together in friendship. “Your tale is very different than what the world believes of Jaime Lannister. If it is indeed he, and he decides to rejoin polite society, I shall put some words in a few well-placed ears. The man should not be vilified for actions that were not his own.”

Sansa’s hand tightened as Brienne’s relaxed. “So you think he will participate in the Season, Mama? Oh, that would be wonderful!” Sansa turned shining bright eyes on Brienne. “Since you are acquainted with Lord Lannister, Miss Tarth, you can see that he introduces me to the handsome young man from this afternoon!”


End file.
